


Birthday Stitches

by StormWildcat



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Crush, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Cute, F/M, Guilty Pleasures, Injury, healing arrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 00:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12024723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormWildcat/pseuds/StormWildcat
Summary: Hanzo needs medical treatment along with some advice from the good doctor.





	Birthday Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> Before you begin on this little adventure, let me explain myself lol I really enjoy Hanzo and Mercy as they are my "guilty pleasure pairing". I kind of based this off of an idea of playing the game rather than the OW story itself, where you can have a team of literally anyone together; makes more sense to have Mercy helping Hanzo that way. Also I feel like she wouldn't want to use the staff constantly for various reasons so she may just do small medical procedures like stitches here and there.
> 
> Enjoy some light Healing Arrow everyone!

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!”

“I am fine.”

“Would you just sit down so I can examine you properly?”

No stranger to arguments from patients and comrades in arms, Mercy was prepared to do what she had to in order to do her job. That included putting her foot down, even threatening if she had to, for the good of the others. Of course some were more difficult to pin down than others, and the elder Shimada brother was certainly at the top of the stubborn list.

“Your talents would be put to better use elsewhere. Now please, I must return to the battlefield,” Hanzo stated dryly, voice gruff as usual.

“Apologies but I can’t let you do that,” Mercy replied, matter of factly. “You are injured and I’m going to examine and treat you.”

A rough single chuckle shook Hanzo’s chest. He did his best to ignore the pain that flared from the wound in his arm. “And how exactly would a small woman like you keep me h-!” Interruptions were not something the Shimada heir took kindly to, but when they were from a pistol pointed at his face, he listened. Earthly eyes narrowed and zeroed in on bright, determined azure. “I must give you credit; you are as unwavering and fearless as I had heard.”

A frighteningly pleasant smile spread across the doctor’s lips. It made her look unusually calm considering she was holding an assassin at gunpoint. “Please, sit. You are getting blood all over my floor and your beautiful outfit,” she instructed. There was a hidden note of force behind her words that convinced Hanzo it would be best to not argue with the woman. She was pointing a gun at him after all.

Defeated the archer took his seat on the cushioned examination table that Mercy had been directing him towards. Paper crinkled beneath his weight. He watched in slight relief as he watched the pistol disappear into its holster on the medic’s hip.

“Alright, let’s take a look at that bullet wound, shall we?” Dr. Ziegler cooed quietly. Only a few moments were required for her to gather up the materials she felt she would need for the examination and treatment of Hanzo’s arm, including forceps and her suture kit in case the bullet was still lodged in his bicep or the damage was deep enough to need stitches. But first things first; he needed some cleaning up. A few blots with clean towels mopped up most of the blood surrounding the injury but when she started to centralize her attention, she switched up to alcohol. “Apologies, but this may sting a little,” she warned lightly.

Hanzo’s arm twanged with a biting pain from the liquid, making him hiss between gritted teeth. A few curses in his native tongue spat from him in Mercy’s direction, bringing a glare from the Swede to his own. He was uncertain if the woman knew exactly what he had said or if she was just judging by the tone of his voice. Or perhaps it was the pointed scowl he reflected. Regardless, she seemed to not be too keen on his irritated response to her assistance. “I thought you were here to cause me less pain, not more,” he growled.

“I’m here to make sure that this wound does not get infected and heals properly. And honestly, have you never had a cut or bullet injury cleaned before? Alcohol is needed to make sure any bacteria is killed. Now stop twitching. I’m just about done so I can get a good look,” Mercy ordered. For having such a polite, spritely voice, it was impressive how much authority she could manage. Begrudgingly the archer obeyed, stilling his body best he could considering the torture being applied to his arm. “Alright, all clean! Hmmm, well as I suspected given the blood, this shot went pretty deep. Doesn’t seem that the sniper hit anything vital. Mainly a flesh wound, lucky for you!” There was a tune of relief in her diagnosis despite the foreign round lodged in the Shimada’s bicep. “I hope you exacted a bit of revenge on her for this one.”

Dark eyebrows lifted; he hadn’t expected the known pacifist to want such a thing. “Don’t worry, my arrow found its mark, though she is likely sharing a similar fate to mine,” he revealed, a hint of smugness in his voice and expression.

“Good, she should know the pain she brings upon others. Perhaps it will force her to feel something,” Mercy upturned her nose at the mention of the lady sniper. So many of her comrades for themselves in Dr. Ziegler’s office, all baring brands of her work. With a steady hand, the doctor administered a small local injection of a numbing concoction before turning her full concentration to the bullet tucked in the archer’s arm. “Give t about thirty seconds and you should be numb enough for me to get that out and get you all stitched up,” she chirped. Skillful fingers began to prepare surgical thread and needle as the awaited the ticking of the clock.

Thirty seconds seemed like a millennia to the impatient elder Shimada, particularly with his legs hanging over the edge of an exam bench like a child. It reminded him too much of when he was young, injured during his one-on-one practice duels against his brother. Being brought to a time like that was unwelcome at times for him. When he was already cranky from a flesh wound was not the time to give him reasons to reflect on his past. Even worse on this particular day of the year. A grunt scratched his throat, “Are we ready to begin? I must get back to my duties.”

“I wouldn’t recommend jumping back into the fray so soon after I take that bullet out of you…but I know the stubbornness and determination of a Shimada. Absolutely relentless.” The expression skewing Mercy’s features was that of worry. “Any chance I could convince you to rest the remainder of the day after this?” she prodded, approaching Hanzo with forceps in hand.

“I have a job to do, Dr. Ziegler. I cannot allow a minor injury like this to keep me from my responsibilities,” he reasoned. Some words became pinched as he felt the awkward sensation of pressure and movement under his skin. It wasn’t much of it, but enough to make the serious man grimace.

The good doctor sighed as she cleanly extracted the bullet, “I’m sure the team will be able to hold their own for a day should you need it, Hanzo.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m a part of the whole, and I am needed,” he responded, a kind of commanding regality, much like a noble officer of an army. Duty was an absolute to the Shimada heir, but Mercy had one more attempt left in her.

“Come on now,” she soothed as she started suturing Hanzo’s wound, “Surely you can afford to rest on your birthday of all days.”

The archer flinched and shifted suddenly, earning him a stare from the doctor that urged him to not repeat the action. “Apologies…how did you know that?”

Mercy laughed, “My dear Hanzo, I know everyone’s birthdays here. It was a required part of the medical paperwork, remember? And I have all of it in this very office.”

“Ah, I suppose that does make sense,” he huffed lightly. “Still, I do not rest simply because it is my birthday.” Dark eyes turned to the woman to his side. They took time to admire her face as she worked diligently to treat his injury. Concentration didn’t always look flattering on people’s features, but for Angela, it was…downright attractive. Sapphire eyes focused, brows neatly knit, lips pushed into a slight pout, blond locks pushed to the side of her cheek, it was a sight that was refreshing for sore, tired eyes. Silver lining for his reluctant visit to the doctor’s office.

“Hmm?”

Apparently Hanzo had taken more time to appreciate her allure. Her work had ceased and those sunny orbs were now affixed to his gaze. “Do you need something?”

“No I…I’m fine. Please continue doing what you must,” he allowed, averting his stare to the floor. A soft smile perked up Mercy’s cheeks as she returned to her task.

No more than a few minutes later, Dr. Ziegler had finished the sutures and had the archer’s arm bandaged up properly. “There we are! All set,” she announced with a beam.

“Thank you,” Hanzo tipped his head in a show of gratitude and respect for the talented young medic. “And I apologize for my rudeness. I am not always the easiest to deal with when injured.”

“Are you sure it’s only when you’re injured?” Hanzo shot Mercy a look to which she waved a dismissive hand. “I’m only kidding. It’s not a problem. You should see Reinhardt when he needs to get his inoculations.” The vision of the intimidating German hammer-wielder facing off against the petite blond and her needles made Shimada smile.

“I suppose as long as I am not the worst though I will work on my conduct in case there is a next time.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Mercy accepted. With a careful heave of his weight, Hanzo lightly dismounted from the examination bench, minding how much he moved his stressed arm. The medic’s line of sight followed him as he worked his way across the office and gathered up his quiver of arrows and beautifully handcrafted bow. As he reached for the handle of the metal pocket door, she called out to him, “Oh Hanzo, one more thing.”

“Yes? Ah-!” A short breath of surprise caught in his lungs as he turned and received a kiss on the cheek from the very woman who had patched him up. It was a bizarre turn of events to him considering his behavior. Nonetheless, the affection was pleasing and he would not refuse it.

When she pulled away, Mercy had a gentleness to her features that made her even more gorgeous than usual. “Happy birthday, Hanzo. Please enjoy it.”

Face a few degrees warmer than normal, Hanzo softened his own expression and tipped his head again. “Thank you, Angela. I will do that.”


End file.
